


chamomile

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Series: nowhere else i'd rather be [9]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics 2019), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, THEY KISSED. THAT'S CANON.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: “Just to be clear. We’re still—” Jenny makes a few complicated hand gestures, realizes belatedly that she doesn’t really know how to mimebroken up,and gives up. Her hands sting a little too much to manage A-grade miming anyway.
Relationships: Jenny Calendar/Rupert Giles
Series: nowhere else i'd rather be [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1310792
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	chamomile

**Author's Note:**

> im gonna be so obnoxious about giles and jenny finally kissing again for the first time in twenty-four years oh my GOD. LOOK AT THEM GO. (yes they're busy breaking up for like the third time in this run i don't care. that's part of their legacy too. honestly three breakups in two years is better than their canon record of two breakups in less than a year.)

“Just to be clear. We’re still—” Jenny makes a few complicated hand gestures, realizes belatedly that she doesn’t really know how to mime _broken up,_ and gives up. Her hands sting a little too much to manage A-grade miming anyway.

Rupert, bless him, gets the message. He swallows hard and continues to bandage her other hand. “You – Jenny, I don’t say this to potentially make this more difficult for you, I hope you know that, but – you’re one of the most important people in my life,” he says. “I know you need space, I can respect that—”

“And if that space ends up being a permanent thing?”

“I—” Rupert’s hands slip as he tapes down the gauze.

Jenny bites her lip, staring down at their hands. She’s pushed Rupert away more times than she can count, and he’s always come back to her. A year or so ago, it was exactly what she needed, but now… “This isn’t working,” she says to her hands. “You know that, right?”

Rupert doesn’t say anything, just raises one of her hands to his mouth. He presses a soft, fluttery kiss to her fingertips. “I was very worried,” he murmurs, breath warm against her skin. _God,_ Jenny’s missed warm things – tea, and blankets, and the only guy who’s ever made her want to put down roots. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

Jenny swallows, hard. _I’m leaving,_ she means to say, but what she actually does is move forward on the sofa and pull Rupert into another kiss. She’s going to tell him in a minute, maybe five, but it was _so_ cold in that dungeon and the only thing she thought about was how much she missed him. _God,_ that’s pathetic. It’s going to really suck to move away from him. She’s going to miss him so much.

Rupert is _so_ gentle with her. Careful of her hands, he tugs at her elbows until she’s settled on his lap, winding his arms tentatively around her waist to pull her in closer. And she _is_ going to tell him, just – in a minute. Later. Definitely.

Jenny breaks the kiss slowly, hiding her face in the crook of his neck and breathing him in. Something tense and awful in her chest loosens.

“I love you,” Rupert whispers, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I love you too,” Jenny whispers back. There’s probably something really messed up about her not telling him _just_ yet that she’s leaving Sunnydale, but given the handful of days she’s had – the cold, the injury, the food Xander had to offer her that was _really_ emblematic of what a teenage boy thought human people ate regularly – she thinks she’s entitled to the kind of comfort she’s wanted all along. And she _knows_ Rupert’s willing to give her as much time and attention as he can afford to, but she also knows that it’s an illusion. He’s a Council man, first and foremost. She can’t compete.

None of this perfectly logically sound reasoning explains why she hasn’t moved from his arms.

“Dolly’s missed you,” says Rupert, in that low, conversational voice that always makes Jenny feel settled and safe. “I know she seems as though she’s happy _now,_ but she’s been pining for her mum _constantly.”_

“Dolly’s _fine,_ you dipshit,” says Jenny into his shoulder. “She probably just got a little spooked by the fire. She likes you.”

Rupert strokes her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m gonna kick your ass for asking me that question right after what I’ve been through.” Jenny feels his quiet laugh before she hears it, and sneaks a smile in response, glad that her face is hidden. “And Dolly isn’t my _daughter,_ she’s my _roommate._ She contributes to the household just as much as I do.”

“Ah, yes. The one-person, one-cat household.” When Jenny looks up at Rupert, he’s still smiling – that soft, shaky smile that hasn’t quite left him ever since the door opened and their eyes met. “You a bit warmer now?”

Jenny wants to kiss him again. She wants to kiss him until she’s _really_ warm, let him tug her up the stairs to bed, fall asleep in his arms the way she used to before this Slayer business kicked into high gear – but this has already gone too far. She’s getting too comfortable. This is why she had to stay so far away from Rupert to begin with: when he’s not being an absolute nightmare of a Council lackey and refusing to listen to her, being with him is the easiest, happiest thing she’s ever known. It feels so horribly dishonest to take comfort from him when she isn’t intending to stay.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly.

Rupert looks genuinely confused. “For what?”

Jenny hesitates, then says, “I don’t know. I don’t think I want to start another fight with you right now.”

“You really couldn’t,” says Rupert, smiling a little. He bumps his nose gently against hers. “I’ve been worried sick about you. I’m not very inclined to be all that angry at you, at the moment.”

 _You never are,_ thinks Jenny, which pretty effectively kills the warm, fuzzy mood. “I guess I could do with some tea,” she says.

Rupert hesitates, his eyes darting to her mouth – but the look in Jenny’s eyes must stop him. He kisses her forehead instead, and when he pulls back, he’s a little teary-eyed. Maybe he’s picked up on more than he’s letting on, even if he isn’t entirely willing to admit it. “Chamomile?”

“Sure.” A little awkwardly, Jenny shifts off of his lap, bundling herself further in the blankets.

As Rupert gets up, Dolly jumps up onto the sofa, making a beeline for Jenny. She scoops her up, laughing a little when Dolly squirms irritably. Her baby is a lap cat, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s all that cuddly. “Deal with it, princess,” she informs Dolly. “I’ve been through a lot in the last few days.”

Dolly meows and bats at Jenny’s hair.

“She didn’t make a _peep_ while you were gone,” Rupert calls from the kitchen. “It was genuinely jarring. Usually when I’m over at yours, she’s yowling away.”

“She only likes talking when she knows she’ll be listened to,” Jenny calls back. This is perhaps a low blow, but maybe some part of her _does_ want to shatter the quiet domesticity of the moment.

Unfortunately for her, Rupert hadn’t been kidding about not being mad at her. He pops his head in from the kitchen, but he’s looking at her with misty eyes and a warm smile. Jenny gets the sense that she could yell at him for three hours about Council politics and his expression wouldn’t waver, which makes a quiet guilt settle in her chest. For all their dysfunction, Rupert really does love her. She wishes that that could be enough.

“No milk, no sugar,” she says, and tries to smile.

“It’s been _days,_ my love,” says Rupert. “Do you _really_ think I’d forget how you take your tea _that_ fast?”

“I don’t know,” says Jenny with a casual shrug. “You’ve gotten a lot of head injuries over the years.”

“You are _dreadful,”_ says Rupert, his voice going all soft in the middle. His hands shake a little as he sets a mug down. “God, I was worried sick about you. I-I know our relationship is still – that is, I know it’s not—” He swallows, then tries again. “I’d rather have you safe and not wanting to be near me than dead and wanting to be with me, if that makes any sense whatsoever.”

The twinge of familiar irritation returns. “It’s not that simple,” says Jenny thinly.

Rupert stills. “Right. Sorry.”

“I’ve _never_ not wanted to be near you, I—” Jenny lets out a sharp breath, cutting herself off. “No. We’re not having this conversation.”

“Of course.”

Jenny swallows, then gets up off of the sofa, carefully setting Dolly down on the floor before moving to join Rupert in the kitchen. Carefully, she places her hands on his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders. Rupert is standing very still. “I thought about you,” she says, “every single day. Don’t you ever doubt that I don’t love you. Don’t you act like I’m making this decision because I don’t love you.”

“No, I—” Rupert doesn’t seem able to meet her eyes.

“And we’re _not_ having this conversation,” Jenny adds belatedly.

Rupert’s mouth twitches. “All right.”

“Don’t – I’m _serious!”_

“Of course.”

“You – _ugh,”_ says Jenny, and kisses him again, tears stinging her eyes as she winds her arms around his neck. He’s not going to see her cry, thank _god,_ but she missed him so much and she thought that she wasn’t going to live long enough to do this again with him. “You really suck,” she whispers tearfully. “You know that, right?”

“Mm,” says Rupert, who seems more focused on kissing her.

It’s warm in the kitchen, just like it was that night Xander died and lived and died again. Rupert was making tea, months ago, just like he is now, and he’d wrapped his arms around her, and the world had stopped for a second because Jenny had felt so safe and so loved. She wants to step back into that moment, or maybe find it again. She doesn’t know if it’s possible.

The kettle goes off.


End file.
